The Ocean's Soulmate
by Master Shipper
Summary: Jack is an immortal Vampire Lord. He has watched his true love be born, grow up, live, and die, over and over again. Sometimes, if he's lucky, he can get his love to fall for him. Percy has always known he was reborn, from the day he learned about rebirth- he just didn't know how many times. Now, the two come together for one of the last times. If Percy dies again, it's all over.
1. Chapter 1

Even before the wolves came, Percy wasn't off to a good start. He was stuck with the therapist.

He flung his backpack down on the floor next to the sofa and sat down tiredly, trying not to show any emotion.

"I think I may be going insane." He said flatly.

The psychologist's face showed concern, and another emotion she was obviously trying hard to hide. Boredom. The same routine, over and over with countless people, had to be straining on her nerves.

"And what makes you think that?" Her blond hair was piled up in a loose bun, and her voice was soothing, like honey. She _had_ to be someone's mother.

Percy swallowed. He hadn't been willing to come here at first, but after he had gone over the problem with his mother, he had somewhat reluctantly agreed.

"I write notes. Often, they're really short, but they always concern me. The thing is, I'm two hundred percent sure it's not me who is writing them." Percy pulled them out of his backpack and dropped them on the desk.

The therapist seemed confused. "So… you write notes, but you can't remember writing them? Well, what do they say?" She picked one up and started reading it. With every note, she looked more and more dismayed.

She seemed like a nice lady, and young, Percy thought. Her name was Annabeth Chase-"Just Annabeth," she'd said-and she had blonde hair and analytical gray eyes. She looked both incredibly patient and easily exasperated.

When she'd first seen Percy, she had smiled a warm smile, like she was greeting a long-lost friend.

The smile had soon dropped, when she saw Percy's SPQR tattoo and his birthmark. It didn't matter. Percy was used to the stares. Mostly for the birthmark, although he was getting used to the tattoo looks too. Most people just stared at him like, "Aren't you a _lot_ young for a tattoo?"

His birthmark was in a "C" shape around his face, as if someone had caressed his face with skin disease. It was permanent. The doctors had removed it twice with lasers, and it had come back both times. He didn't really care. After seventeen long years, he was growing rather attached to it.

Annabeth started reading the scraps out loud.

"'Dead before eighteen.' 'Remember the Three Rivers.'" That one had confused Percy. He was son of the sea god. There were thousands of rivers under his father's domain. Why were a specific three important? Although, it wasn't like he was ever going to be able to tell Annabeth that. That one, he'd have to deal with himself.

She kept reading. "'The cycle _can_ be broken.' 'It's almost August. You know what happens then.' 'He's coming?' Coming? Who's coming?"

"I don't know." Percy said.

"But you wrote them, even if you don't remember it." Annabeth waved her pencil around (rather triumphantly) like she had just finished a spelling test. "And what does August mean?"

"The eighteenth is my birthday." Percy replied.

Annabeth appeared to think for a moment. She gently asked Percy, "Do you feel that someone's trying to hurt you?"

Percy gave a dark chuckle. "Can I trust you?"

Annabeth nodded earnestly, like Percy was about to reveal a life-altering secret. In a way, he was.

"Someone's always trying to hurt me. So far in this life, only one has."

"In _this_ life?" Annabeth asked. So, she was sharper than she looked.

"I'm Greek." Percy refrained from saying everything about his heritage. He didn't want to damage the poor mortal's mind. "There is a possibility that a hero chose to be reborn, and was reborn into me. Maybe they were trying to get to the isles of the Blest. I don't know."

Annabeth looked intrigued. "And who has hurt you?"

"A great man named Bob. He died trying to save me. I owe him my life." Percy didn't want to think about Bob. It still stung. He decided to change the topic.

"So I'm crazy, right?"

"No, no, no." Annabeth fumbled with the pencil, then patted her pockets.

Percy opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke slowly. "Look, Doctor-I mean, Annabeth. I'm here because I don't want to be crazy. I just want to be me again. I want to graduate with my class. I want to have a great summer horseback riding with my best friend, Nico. And next year I want to go to New Rome and study the ocean. I want my life back. But if you can't help me ..."

"I'm sorry," She said. Her eyes weren't analytical now; they were gray and shining as she tentatively squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Percy. It sounds awful. But I'm sure I can help you. We'll get to the bottom of it." She smiled, warmly again. "All this will be behind you."

She broke off as chimes sounded somewhere inside the house. The doorbell.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be right back. Who would be coming now?"

Percy felt unease, stirring in his gut. He recognized it, of course. Years of knowing he was a half-blood let him know when bad things were about to happen. Training with Lupa had sharpened his senses even more, after that.

"Don't answer it," Percy said.

The sound of the doorbell had sent chills running up and down Percy's spine. Sadly, they weren't the You-startled-me-don't-do-that kind of chills.

Annabeth looked at him confusedly, then gave him a gentle reassuring smile. "It might just be another prospective client, Percy. Wouldn't want to keep one of them waiting. Don't worry." She touched his shoulder lightly, and smiled again as she swept out of the room.

Percy stood up, and was just about to follow her, if at the very least just to keep her safe, when the door swung shut and locked. Percy would have cut the lock with riptide, but he didn't want to damage Annabeth's property, and then try to explain that no, he _hadn't_ brought a silent mini chainsaw (one of his more… eccentric teachers had thought that once in his previous years), and _no_ , he wasn't non-human (mostly) thank you very much.

So Percy just went back and sat down again on one of the nice chairs, and tried very hard to ignore his apprehension.

Which was probably not a very good idea, because at that instant the window across the room exploded.


	2. Chapter 2

Percy leapt to his feet. Understanding came to him slowly, because the whole situation was just too bizarre, even by his unusually high standards.

At first he simply thought it was another monster. If so, Annabeth was going to be in for a shock when she saw all of the destruction that happened to her house. Maybe Percy could use the Mist on her and try to convince her that it wasn't her home that was demolished. Just a ridiculously rich neighbor.

He wondered how she didn't hear the noise. The explosion was that loud. But all was silent from her end, no banging on the door, or shouting for Percy to let her in. Then he realized that something had come in the window, which was most likely he reason it had exploded.

Then he noticed what was standing with him. It was a wolf. There was a big black wolf in the room with him.

It was a gorgeous animal, lean and muscular, with midnight-colored fur and a brown marking like a tattoo on its back. It was looking at him fixedly, with an almost human expression.

It wasn't like Lupa's wolves, who were at least somewhat well-groomed. And although they were wolves, they still seemed more human than this one. This one looked like it killed babies for the fun of it in its spare time.

Percy stuck his hand in his pocket, getting ready to take out Riptide at a moment's notice.

Something deeper was making him move, deeper than surface thoughts, deeper than voluntary actions, deeper that anything he controlled. The only time he had ever experienced anything similar was when he came across a mortal attacking a vampire. He'd backed away, all the while trying to go to her, to save her life, anything.

Instead, she had murmured "This kitten has claws," and walked away from a shriveled corpse. And she was _mortal._

The whatever-it-was made him back up slowly, never taking his eyes off the wolf, until he felt the bookcase behind him. This was like the worst thing he could possibly be doing. He should be trying to intimidate it, prove he had dominance over the wolf, make it feel inferior.

 _There's something you need to get_ , a voice in Percy's mind whispered to him. It wasn't like the voice of another person, it was familiar, but it wasn't exactly like his own thoughts, either. It was the voice of the whatever-it-was, and it sounded like a dark night: cool and comforting. It sounded similar to his, though. Like a Martian born on Earth. _Something you saw on a shelf earlier_ , it said.

In an impossibly graceful motion, from eight feet away, the wolf leaped.

It flew gracefully, rippling through the air, and all Percy could think was _Oh gods, it's one of Lycaon's_ as he was slammed into the bookcase. For a while after that, everything was simply chaos. Books and knick-knacks were falling around everywhere. Gods, why was Annabeth such a hoarder?

Percy was trying to get his balance, trying to push the heaviness of the furry body away from him, because as long as the wolf was on him, he was stuck. The wolf was falling back, finally, then jumping again as he twisted sideways to get away.

The wolf seemed happy, because right now, it was undefeatable. Riptide wouldn't work. Its eyes glowed triumphantly yellow in the light of a lamp that was lying on its side. They were such strange eyes, more intense and more savage than any wolf's he'd ever seen. Not even Lycaon's had eyes like these. It was terrifying. Then Percy saw it draw its legs beneath it.

 _Move- now_ , the mysterious new part of his mind snapped. Not that he needed reminding.

Percy moved. The wolf hit the bookcase with incredible force, and then the bookcase itself was falling. Percy flung himself sideways in time to avoid being crushed- but the case fell with an unholy noise- directly in front of the door. There was no getting out now.

 _Trapped_ , the dark night in Percy's mind noted analytically. No exit anymore, except the window. _Yeah, thanks, I don't think I noticed that._ He replied, getting somewhat fed up.

"Percy? Percy?" It was Annabeth's voice, just outside the room. She must have finally noticed the commotion. The door flew open -all of four inches. It jammed against the fallen bookcase. "What are you doing? Percy? Percy!" She sounded panicked now, banging the door uselessly against the blockage.

 _Don't think about her_ , the new part of Percy's mind said sharply. Percy was really starting to hate the self-centered witch in his mind, right as she was. Yeah, the voice was definitely a she. He opened his mouth to shout back to Annabeth, still keeping a wary eye on the wolf. He blinked.

And the wolf lunged.

This time Percy didn't move fast enough. A weight that made him think it was hell-hound descent smashed into him and he was falling, flying. He landed hard, his head smacking into the floorboards, arms splayed out uselessly.

It hurt. Even though he was practically used to the pain, it didn't feel nice.

And even as he felt it, everything grayed out. It was times like these that he remembered just how useful a silver sword and the Curse of Achilles was.

 _I'm dead now. It's over again. Oh, Isis, Goddess of Life, guide me to the other world. . ._ .

"Percy! Percy! What's going on in there?" Annabeth's frantic voice came to him dimly.

Percy's vision cleared and the bizarre thoughts vanished, thankfully. With luck, they'd never come back.

Even in the midst of his terror, he felt a strange appalled fascination. He'd never really seen a non-Greek-monster werewolf. He hadn't even known they'd existed. Still, it made sense. It couldn't be just the Greeks ruling the world, widespread as they were.

And he couldn't move, he realized, far too late. The wolf was as long as he was tall, and it weighed more than he did. Far more. Like, hell-hound heavy. And Mrs. O'Leary was the size of a small tank. Pinned underneath it, he was almost utterly helpless. All he could do was lie there shivering as the narrow, almost delicate muzzle got closer and closer to his face. Well, and use one arm that was out of its line of vision to search for anything, _anything_ , Annabeth might have that was silver. She was a woman, for pete's sake! Where was all the trinketry?

His eyes closed, voluntarily, as he felt the cold wetness of its nose on his cheek. If he could make it think that Percy was ready to lose….

The wolf began nudging at strands of his hair that had fallen across his face. Percy had been growing it longer for a while, because he thought it looked cool. Sue him.

Now the cold nose was moving across his cheekbone. The wolf seemed to be smelling him, tasting his, and looking at him all at once. It must have gone insane. Unless…

 _No. Not looking at me. Looking at my birthmark._

It was a ridiculous thought. Sadly, it was just an ordinary one to Percy. In a world where wonderful people had monstrous parents, in a world where gods make the mortals do the work, in a world with nature killed, it was only average. And it set off the dark night voice in his mind again.

 _Reach out,_ the voice whispered, quiet and businesslike. _Feel around you. The weapon has to be there somewhere. You saw it on the bookcase. Find it._

Percy's eyes were still falsely shut, and they were probably going to stay that way. He did not want to see some of the grosser details of the thing that was only inches away. But, if he did keep his eyes shut, he wouldn't be able to see the wolf prepare its attack, and as such wouldn't be able to defend himself. He reluctantly peeled his eyes open and was immediately assaulted with teeth.

His hand was still searching for something when the frame poked him. His fingers glided over the surface just to make sure, and allowed himself a small triumphant smile. It was square and cold and faced with glass.

In it was a picture of a little Annabeth, with a black-haired girl and a blonde scarred boy. He hoped it wouldn't get ruined in his attack.

The dark night had taken over Percy's mind completely, filling his mind with primal information and useless things Percy already knew from spending time with Lupa.

Except. . . that he had silver in his hand. A silver picture frame.

Percy didn't think. He had already done enough of that while the wolf had been sniffing around, and decided that it had to die, just like any other monster. He didn't give a rat's ass if it was sentient or not. Kelli had had thoughts, and all she did was end up dead. Twice.

He brought the picture frame up and slammed it into the wolf's eye, driving it deep. It gave a whimper of pain and dissolved into silver dust, which was actually really beautiful. The dust, not the wolf. Percy scooped it up into his pocket. Maybe he could show it to the wolf's friends.

Percy made a note to get some silver added to Riptide for situations like these.

Percy stared dizzily at the curtains swirling first outside, then inside the room, and then his head snapped around to the hills in the background. To look at a gray wolf.

Amber eyes met his green ones directly. It was such a human stare . . . and definitely the look of an equal. Almost the look of a friend.

Just to be wary, Percy grabbed a handful of the silver dust and held it up, letting it trickle through his fingers in a menacing way.

He couldn't tell, but it almost seemed like the gray wolf snorted at that, as if it was funny that he'd killed a werewolf like her. Maybe she thought it was a pathetic attempt at intimidation.

Then the gray wolf twisted and loped away, running over the crest of the hill and out of sight, as if Percy wasn't worth her time. Or if she was telling someone about him.

Then silence.

Percy shut his eyes.

He just wanted to live a normal life, with none of his demigod-ishness bleeding through. Then he'd gone to the one person who could actually make that possible, and guess what? Monster attack! It was damn near inevitable.

His knees buckled, and for several long moments, he just sat there, staring blankly at the floor with a million thoughts running through his head.

 _It never happens, you know._

Percy jumped at the night that was back in his head and apparently ready to make conversation.

 _Oh, yeah?_ He thought. _What never happens?_

 _The five previous times we've been demigods, we never settled. We never even lived that long. Always dead. I have a feeling you'll live the longest of all of us._

He let out his breath and slumped even more. The silver picture frame fell to the floor.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" Annabeth was climbing through the other window. She tripped gracefully on a waste-basket getting across the room, then she was beside him, grabbing for his shoulders, trying to look his over.

"I'm fine, Annabeth, you're just like my mother!" He was numb, was what he was. His senses were blunted and all the fight had gone out of him. The knowledge that he was going to die soon actually soothed him, somewhat. He'd finally be able to give everything up and just… die.

Annabeth's face was white, her blonde hair disheveled, her eyes large and stunned. All in all, she looked like a ghost with her general lack of color. She ran a shaky hand over her forehead, then stared at Percy to check if he was actually fine. She twisted her neck to stare at the wreck of her office, and Percy winced.

"What happened here?"

Percy said simply, "Wolf." He added on another sentence as the thought occurred to him. "So who was at the door?"

Annabeth blinked twice. "Nobody. Nobody was at the door." She added almost dreamily, "I wonder if wolves can ring doorbells?"

"What?"

Annabeth turned to look straight at her.

"Has it ever occurred to you," she blurted, "that you may not be paranoid after all? I mean, that something weird and uncanny really is out to get you?"

"Very funny," Percy whispered. But Annabeth was on to something, even if it was something Percy already knew himself.

"I mean-" Annabeth gestured around the room, half-laughing. She looked punch-drunk. "I mean, you said something was going to happen- and something did." She stopped laughing and looked at him with wondering speculation. "You really did know, didn't you?"

Percy glared at the woman who was supposed to guide him back to normality. "Are you crazy?"

Annabeth sighed. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I just don't know how to deal with situations like yours. I have never had anyone who had a wolf while in my living room."

"I'm also a demigod." Percy decided to just go for it. He and Annabeth were under client confidentiality, and if she did go blabbing, she'd only be marked crazy. There was a reason most mortals didn't know about gods and monsters.

Annabeth blinked owlishly. "What?"

So Percy explained his world to her, and explained what his daily life was like, and his trip through Tartarus with Malcom, how he'd been the first to find the Athena Parthenos and had tripped with Percy into the pit, and a thousand other things he'd never been able to tell anyone before.

Annabeth listened, and eagerly learned about everything Percy had to say to her, and never once looked at Percy like he was crazy. Percy loved her for that.

Annabeth cleared her throat, looking out the window. Her voice was surprisingly level and filled with concern. "You kept saying 'again.'"

Percy startled. "What?"

"The whole time you were talking to me, you had this wistful look on, and you said it was the second time this had happened to you, at least."

"Then you have to help me find out who I was before."


End file.
